


One carriage over

by Amber_candlelight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24039571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_candlelight/pseuds/Amber_candlelight
Summary: All it took was the Malfoy's arriving ten minutes prior to the Weasley's, and Harry sitting one carriage over on the train to Hogwarts, for the fate of the wizarding world to change for good. With no prejudice against slytherin, Harry has no reason to deny the sorting hat's pull to sort him there and the world reacts poorly to the golden boy in the nest of snakes.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Sorting

Harry stared, dumbfounded, at the ticket in his hands. Hagrid had left him alone, and the security guard had told him to scram when he inquired about the platform. Perhaps this was his aunt and uncle's plan, to leave him with a ticket they knew was fake, in the hopes someone would take the sad, scrawny, lost and clearly delusional boy far, far away.

He glanced back up the the platform signs, willing them to change. There was an elaborate 9, and an elaborate 10, and an 11 year old boy wishing, for the millionth time in his life, for something to happen. For someone to care enough to help. For someone to save him, instead of having to save himself. He thought his parents must be disappointed, to see their son so sad so much of the time. Hopeless.

He felt tears of frustration and fear pricking at his eyes, and he hurried to blink them away. This was no time for self-pity. Hagrid had seemed genuinely kind, and if he said there was a platform 9 and 3/4 around here, Harry simply had to find it.

"Excuse me, are you going through? The train will be departing soon."

Standing behind him was a family of three, with striking platinum hair and even more striking eyes, stormy and powerful. The boy looked to be around Harry's age, and Harry struggled to meet his eyes, and the intense look they gave him. He could feel the prickle of judgement emanating from the boy as he took in Harry's watery eyes and tattered clothes. Compared to the boy's immaculate suit, he must look as if he wandered over from the homeless shelter down the road. 

He realized, rather belatedly, that they had asked him a question, and instead of answering he had merely stared at them. The silence stretched on, as Harry scrambled to remember what they had asked. Was he going through?

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean. Through where?"

The man's eyes sharpened, as if he was looking through Harry and examining each and every one of his failures. It was a look he recognized, he saw it in his aunt and uncle's eyes every day. Despite his overwhelming urge to look away, to stare at the ground and wait for the moment to pass, Harry couldn't help but feel that he should go about this differently than he would at home.

At home, being downtrodden was a mode of survival. This felt more like a test, one he was determined to pass. He straightened his shoulder's and willed his eyes to blaze with fire, with strength and pride. He may have looked like nothing, but this man was not his uncle, and he had no right to treat him as such.

After a tense moment, the judgement in the man's eyes shifted to analysis, sizing Harry, and his intentions up. And then, much to Harry's surprise, they softened. If he hadn't been staring into the man's stormy eyes, he may have missed it. But he saw the change as he went from disdainful to curious, and possibly, caring.

"You mean to say you have an owl on your trolley, and a ticket to platform 9 and 3/4, and yet you do not know where to go through?"

Harry nodded, mutely. That had been a test, and he had passed. Was the man going to help him now?

"Are you a muggle, dear?"

His eyes flicked to the woman for the first time, surprised to find them a startling blue. After seeing both sets of stormy grey eyes, the electricity contained in her eyes was a pleasant change.

Her question confused him. She used the word dear kindly, and the word muggle like it left an unpleasant taste in her mouth. He remembered Hagrid calling the people he claimed to have no magic muggles, and if Hagrid was telling the truth about both Harry and his parents being Wizards, that meant the term did not apply to him. He shook his head mutely, happy to have finally understood something today.

The family seemed to thaw, and the boy stuck his hand out, intending to shake Harry's. As he reached to shake the boy's hand, Harry realized it was his first time shaking anyone's hand. He had always been treated as less than worth kindness by his family, and the attitude extended to anyone they introduced him to. He suddenly worried he wasn't gripping the boy's hand hard enough, or that he wasn't moving his hand enough. 

"I'm Draco Malfoy, pleased to meet you."

The boy, _Draco,_ said his name as if it held a weight, and he expected people to treat it as such. Harry tried to look as if the name had affected him, Draco clearly expected it. His name must have been important to him. Harry remembered how the people in the tavern with Hagrid had reacted to his full name, and the story Hagrid had told his about the evil wizard. He was tempted to avoid telling these people his full name, if only to avoid a similar reaction, but Draco had used his full name, and Harry supposed he owed him the same.

"Harry Potter, it's nice to meet you too."

Draco dropped his hand, seemingly without realizing. He looked back to his parents, as if confirming with them that they were having the same experience as he was. The smile on the woman's face blossomed as she looked at her son, and then she stepped forward to address Harry.

"Well, well, Harry Potter! I am Narcissa Malfoy, and this is my husband, Lucius. It's true pleasure to meet you, I'm not sure if you are aware, but our families have a long history of friendship."

Harry gaped up at Narcissa, her words floating through his head.

"Our...families? My parents?"

She grimaced, a surprising expression on her regally beautiful face.

"Your parents were...an exception. Time and circumstances pulled us from them, but in the past, your ancestors and ours had a glorious history of friendship and alliance."

Harry paused to consider her words.

"Circumstances...you mean Voldemort."

If she was surprised at his use of the supposed dark lord's name, she did not show it.

"Yes, I do. The war caused a lot of division, and we're lucky to have the chance to re-build."

She looked as if she had more to say, but Lucius cut in before she could continue.

"Narcissa, dear, we really must get to the platform."

She seemed to shake herself out of a daze, and smiled down at Harry.

"Of course! Harry, dear, it may seem strange, given your absence from our world for so long, but as with most magic, the answer can be found in unexpected places. To reach the platform, you simply walk though that wall, right there."

She pointed to a brick arch between platforms 9 and 10. Harry looked at the wall, at her, and then back at the wall, before he determined that she was not, in fact, joking. She expected him to walk into a wall, and find something on the other side.

She apprised the mistrust in his eyes, and gave him a warm smile.

"Perhaps Draco can go through first, and meet you on the other side?"

She phrased it as a question, but Draco moved to go through without any semblance of an answer. He gave Harry a crooked grin, the first real emotion Harry had seen in the boy's eyes. It transformed his features, from cold to...not warm, exactly, but...intriguing. That was the best word Harry could muster. And it was all that crossed his mind before Draco marched straight through the wall and disappeared.

Exhilaration coursed through him, at the first proof of this magic world he was apparently a part of now. He didn't turn back to Lucius and Narcissa before he turned the trolley and ran towards the wall, sure they would follow to say goodbye to their son. It felt like walking though a thin layer of warm honey, that clung to him for a second before letting him though, and in his haste, he nearly crashed into Draco's back.

"Careful! I'd quite like to make it to school today." 

Draco gave him that crooked grin again, and Harry felt a strange mix of butterflies in his stomach. The nerves of the day were finally catching up to him, he decided. And as he looked away from Draco to the platform in front of him, and the glistening Red train, they multiplied into a swarm that threatened to push him off his feet. The train was the most beautiful thing young Harry had ever seen. it gleamed in the white light of the tunnel, and the people surrounding it....they were, no other word for it, weird. they wore a mismatch of clothes, long flowing robes, suits, bathrobes, skirts. Seemingly a blend of muggle and wizard clothing. looking at the parents fare welling their children, and the siblings hugging each other goodbye, Harry felt, for perhaps the first moment of his life, a sense of belonging. These were his people, and that train would take him home.

A gentle tap on his shoulder pulled him out of the moment. He turned to find Narcissa smiling at him, holding something out. He looked down at her hand to find a piece of parchment, and a letter.

"Should you need anything at Hogwarts, dear, please feel free to write us. Just give the letter to your owl, she'll know where to go. The Potter's and the Malfoy's used to be great friends, and even better allies. I hope we can rekindle that relationship with you. Be sure to tell us if you have any trouble, or are in need of anything."

Lucius stood behind his wife, his hand on her shoulder in a silent support of her words. Having been without any adults to truly, genuinely care about his well-being for so long, Harry felt his earlier tears threatening to re appear. Despite their cold exterior, he had never felt so cared for by two adults, especially two he had just met.

The urge to stand on his tip toes and hug Narcissa was strong, but despite the kindness in her eyes, the Malfoy's stood proudly, and he had a feeling they reserved acts of affection away from public spaces.

Instead, he swallowed the choked sound in his throat and offered them the most genuine thank-you he could muster. They smiled again, and then turned to their son. Harry turned away, giving them privacy to say goodbye to their son. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco shake his fathers hand, and then, to Harry's surprise, he flung his arms around his mother's neck. Apparently, hugs were allowed between them after all. Narcissa murmured something in Draco's ear, gesturing subtly to Harry. Draco gave him mum a solemn nod, before smiling at them again, grabbing his trolley, and walking over to Harry.

"Would you like to sit together, on the train?"

Draco spoke non-nonchalantly, as if the answer didn't matter to him either way, but his eyes held anticipation, and out of character with his relaxed stance, nervousness. He was nervous for Harry's response, scared of being rejected, and for a small moment, Harry thought maybe Draco was just as nervous to make friends as him.

He gave Draco his best approximation at a confident grin, and gestured towards the stairs.

"Lead the way!"

_____

Harry and Draco were the only people sitting in the cabin. Draco explained that most of his other friends were getting changed into their robes, and would come to find them, and then they could go get changed. Apparently the cabins filled up quickly, and his parents had instructed him to have someone hold down the fort at one so they could all sit together. 

As soon as the train had started moving, and Draco turned from waving at his parents through the window, he'd started to talk. nervous energy was bubbling over with every word he said, clearly unsure how to talk to Harry.

Harry contributed to the conversation the best he could, but he didn't understand half of the words Draco used, and it took Draco about 10 minutes to realise this.

"...I'm talking a lot, aren't I? Sorry, i'm not used to being nervous...you don't even know what I'm talking about, huh?"

Harry cracked a grin.

"Well, today is my first day knowing that wizards exist, so...no, I don't."

Draco's mouth fell open, if his jaw detached it would have hit the floor in less than a second.

"You...you didn't know...at all?"

Harry tried to repress the frown threatening to overtake his features. He desperately wanted to lie, to make himself seem less pitiful. Say he'd been held captive all his life in a dungeon and bravely managed to escape, or has been training in wrestling sharks instead on magic. But the horrified look in Draco's eyes gave him pause. This was his first ever friend, did he really want to ruin that by hiding himself?

"Well, I was taken in by my aunt and uncle when my parents..died. They hate magic, so they told me my parents died in a car crash..and, well, that was that."

If looks could kill, Harry thought Draco would have reduced his aunt and uncle to ashes.

"They hid your magic from you?"

Harry managed a small smile, remembering all the strange things he'd made happen in his life, and belatedly realizing they could be seen as small acts of rebellion. A way to get back at his family.

"Yeah, well they tried. I did some stuff anyway. Like my hair always grows back, and I, ah...well I helped a snake escape the zoo."

Draco stared at him for a second, and during that moment Harry doubted his instinct to be honest. Maybe his experience was too weird, too abnormal even for another wizard. And then Draco stared to laugh.

"You...you freed a snake from a zoo?"

Harry found himself laughing too, launching into the story of the day, how the glass disappeared, the snake nodding to him. He found himself not mentioning the actual conversation with the snake. _baby steps,_ he thought. I'll tell him about that later, maybe he can do it too.

Just as his and Draco's laughter started to subside, Harry was startled by a loud noise from the carriage door.

" _Croak!"_

The toad in the doorway seemed to stare at him disdainfully, as if it was Harry's fault that he was in the toad's space. He and Draco stared at it mutely, waiting for someone to make a move. Harry started to rise from his chair to see if the toad would let him pick it up, but the toad seemed to sense his intentions, and hopped away as quickly a it had come.

Harry turned to stare at Draco in bewilderment.

"Is there always random toads on this train?"

Draco didn't seem bothered by the toad's appearance, but wrinkled his nose at the patch of sticky wetness the toad had left on the carpet.

"It's probably someone's pet, though why they'd let it roam freely, I've no idea."

Draco opened his mouth to continue, when there was a knock on the compartment door.

"Hello, would it be okay if I joined you? everywhere else is full."

The voice belonged to a freckled boy with shockingly red hair. He had a smudge of dirt across his nose, and carried a fat brown rat in his pale hands.

Draco looked ready to refuse, staring disdainfully at the boy's appearance, but Harry cut in before he could. There was plenty of room in the compartment.

"Of course! This is Draco, and I'm Harry."

At Draco's name, the boy paused on his way to sit beside Harry.

"Draco...Malfoy?"

Draco nodded stiffly. Harry realized he had straightened, and any trace of laughter was gone from his expression. His face looked as if it was carved from stone.

"And with that hair...you must be a Weasley."

Draco's tone held such contempt, Harry flinched. Why was Draco being so mean to this boy? He didn't seem at all bad.

Draco caught the movement, and for a moment, he seemed unsure. It was obvious Draco disliked this boy, and though Harry had no idea why, he had an urge to broker peace between them. Although he no idea how to do so.

There were a few moments of awkward silence, as Harry tried to work out what to say. Draco didn't like the new boy, but he did seem to like Harry, and harry didn't see anything wrong with making another friend. He settled on small talk with the new boy. Draco would adjust.

"So...what's your name?"

The red-headed boy gave him a small smile, holding his rat close to his chest.

"I'm Ron. Weasley, as your friend figured out."

Harry snorted lightly. Ron didn't seem too bad.

"Yes, well, my powers of deductive reasoning really are unmatched." Draco drawled from his seat opposite them.

Coming from anyone else, that would have seemed cruel, but compared to Draco's response to Ron a few moments ago, it was a vast improvement. Ron gave him a hint of a smile, and it was if a layer of ice had been broken. Draco's posture relaxed, and Ron seemed to grip his rat a little lighter.

Ron leaned forward to shake Draco's hand, though neither of them seemed particularly comfortable with the gesture, and then Ron turned to shake Harry's hand.

"Sorry, what was your name again?"

Harry hope he was shaking Ron's hand right, had he held on too long? He didn't think about not saying his last name, too focused on perfecting the handshake.

"Harry Potter, nice to meet you!"

Ron's hand fell away from his.

"Harry...Potter? As in-"

"Yes. The boy who lived himself."

Draco cut in before Harry could. He seemed proud, having the right to introduce someone with Harry's status. But he also seemed proud to have someone he could introduce as his friend. No one had ever been proud to know Harry before, and it left a warm feeling in his chest.

Ron shook his head, trying to free himself from his surprise.

"That's bloody awesome! do you..."

He trailed off, looking like he was unsure if he should finish the sentence, but harry looked at him quizzically, waiting for him to finish.

Ron took another breath.

"Do you...do you really have...you know...the _scar?"_ He practically whispered the last word.

Harry laughed, and pulled his hair off his forehead to show him the lightning bolt. He'd always thought it was strange a car crash could create such a perfect shape, and now he knew that magic was the cause, his head felt newly sensitive. Draco was leaning forward from his chair, good posture forgotten. apparently he had been curious as well, but hadn't had the courage to ask. At least now he got the answer he'd wanted. After both boys got a sufficient look at the mark, Harry let his shaggy hair fall back down. He felt raw and vulnerable, waiting for some kind of reaction. Maybe the scar looked too weird, and they wouldn't want to be his friend any more. Maybe they hadn't believed Voldemort had tried to kill him, and now that they knew he had, it was too strange. Maybe-

" _Wicked!"_

Ron grinned, looking at Harry like he was his best friend in the world. 

"Mate, that is so cool."

Harry didn't know how to respond to the compliment, so he just smiled back. Ron's expression was mirrored in Draco's, but he didn't say anything. The smile was enough. He was grateful not to have to respond, because a kind voice, coupled with the smell of something delicious, drifted into their compartment.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?"

The witch, or Harry presumed she was a witch, had frizzy grey hair, a pink apron, and a kind smile. She winked at Harry as she displayed her trolley of goods. so many lollies, Harry could feel a cavity just looking at it. he'd never been allowed opulence at home, he got the burnt bits of dinner, not chocolate and pies. He thought of the pile of galleons in his pocket, but he thought maybe he should save them.

"No Thanks...I'm...all set."

Ron gazed sadly down at the crushed tuna sandwich he'd pulled from his pocket, wrapped in plastic and positively unappetizing. He looked at it, thinking that at home, that would be a good meal for him. Draco looked at it as if it might bite him. Ron looked at it with a resigned acceptance. 

Between the three boy's reactions to the smashed sandwich, Harry made a decision that he had gone too long without an unnecessary, bad decision.

He dragged a big handful of coins from his baggy pocket, and grinned toothily at the Trolley Lady.

"We'll take the lot!"

____

Ron was still staring at the pile of goods around him, and Harry felt a sense of satisfaction that he had created something good for someone else. And him, he knew. this was the nicest food he'd ever eaten.

Draco and Ron and explained the chocolate frogs to him, but after seeing one leap from the window, he passed on any others. Harry munched on pumpkin pasties and laughed as they all tried the Bertie Bots Every Flavour Beans. So far, Harry had been lucky, getting watermelon, and lemon. Ron had gotten earwax, and Draco had sworn never to try them again when he got one that he swore was the flavour of death. Harry was sure he'd try another one eventually, they were pretty fun.

The floor of the compartment was littered with wrappers. There had been a low point, when a dark haired girl and three boys had come to the compartment, taken one look at Ron, and kept walking. Draco's face had flushed in embarrassment, looking as if he wanted to run after them, but then he looked at Harry, and he must've decided to stay, because he was still sitting with them.

Draco said those were his other friends, and they must've realized there wasn't enough space for them all in the compartment, but even Harry knew that was a lie. He was just glad they moved on from the awkwardness quickly. Draco said he'd introduce Harry to his friends later, and secretly Harry hoped he'd never have to have that interaction. Those kids...they gave off an aura of power, and Harry was sure they wouldn't take to a scrawny, disheveled boy who'd been raised by muggles.

Ron had moved forward quickly, as if he knew something like that would happen, and he was prepared. He dived into an explanation of someone on a card from a chocolate frog, and even Draco seemed interested in the story. Again, most of it flew over Harry's head, but he was content to just be included. When he was winding down from his impassioned explanation, Ron finally started to notice how much mess they'd made. He leaned to pick up a wrapper from the floor, and tilted his head at the stain left by the toad.

He looked around the cabin, and tilted his head at the stain on the carpet.

"What's that? It looks fresh..."

Harry and Draco grimaced in unison.

"We had a toad visit us just before you did," Harry said with a light chuckle. 

"It didn't stay very long,"

Draco rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure it took one look around and didn't want to be anywhere near a snake liberator.

It was a simple thing, but Harry had never had an inside joke with anyone before, and the smile he shared with Draco warmed him all the way to the tips of his toes.

"I can get rid of it!"

Ron seemed excited to be involved, and he pulled out his wand. It was the colour of ash, and had some kind of hair sticking out of its end. Draco looked as if he was trying to suppress a smirk at the seemingly goofy wand, but when Ron muttered something, swished his wand, and vanished the stain, the smirk was replaced with a grudging look of respect.

Harry thought his face must be getting sick of looking shocked.

"How did you do that? I thought we start learning magic at Hogwarts!"

Draco looked as if he was recalculating Ron in his head.

"We do, but it doesn't hurt to have some tutoring before you go."

Draco and Ron shared a smile at Draco's words.

"Well, my tutor probably isn't as fancy. But my brothers like to make mess, a lot. And my mother often needs help cleaning it up.

Harry felt a familiar squeeze on his heart, an ache to have had a life filled with love and opportunities, as Draco and Ron so clearly had. Maybe if his parents were still alive, he would be able to vanish mess from the floor as easily as Ron had, and would be able to speak about his home and his childhood without struggling to recall a fond memory.

He was shook out of his depression by a high pitched voice coming from the doorway.

"Was that magic?"

Harry thought they were getting an awful lot of traffic in their compartment. Did everyone get this many visitors?

The visitor in question was a bushy haired girl in flowing black Hogwarts robes, with two front teeth that stuck out when she spoke. She looked around as if she was challenging the boys to respond to her, and then down at the spot where the toads goo had previously sat.

Draco raised an eyebrow in the girls direction, disapproving of her question.

"Well, he flicked his wand and the mess disappeared, so I would suppose the answer is yes."

The bushy haired girl raised her chin in response, Harry hadn't thought anyone could match Draco's haughty stare, but this girl managed it.

"It's just, I've read all our spell books for first year, and whatever magic you used wasn't there. What was it?"

Ron seemed stunned to have the question directed at him. He fumbled with his words, trying to give an explanation that would get that haughty stare off of him.

"It, was- well, My mum needs help cleaning up after my brothers, and she taught me a few basic cleaning spells. It's a simple incantation, _Mundos,_ mum says it's versatile when you want to clean something up."

The girl looked as if she was drinking in the information, and if given the chance, she would quiz Ron for hours until she understood the inner workings of the spell completely. Harry didn't want Ron to be subjected to that.

"Was there something we can help you with?"

The girl seemed to shake herself out of her thoughts.

"Oh! I forgot. I'm looking for a toad, a boy Neville's lost one. Have you seen it?"

The three boys all started to speak, then stopped, laughing at one another. Harry pushed his way through to explain.

"Yes, it came by before, and then hopped off that way," He gestured down the corridor.

"That's what made the stain i cleaned up," Ron explained further. He seemed proud to have so many answers for her.

"Why didn't you catch it?"

The girl was looking directly at Harry now, and before they could answer her question, she pushed ahead.

"You look familiar, you know...oh! You're Harry Potter! I saw a picture of you in Hogwarts, A History!"

Harry was stunned. With the realization, she seemed to decide this was her compartment too now, inviting herself to sit next to Draco and keep talking to Harry.

"How did they get a picture of me?"

The question clearly wasn't of interest to the girl. She ignored it.

" _I'm_ Hermione Granger, it's lovely to meet you. You're famous."

She told Harry he was famous as if he didn't already know, and he struggled not to get aggravated at her tone, but he managed. He'd held his tongue at worse, after all.

"Yes, well, this is Ron and Draco."

She looked the other boys over, and gave them a small smile, which almost managed to cover the judgement in her eyes, but not quite.

"Pleasure. You know, you should really all change into your robes, I expect we'll be arriving soon."

She turned to walk from the compartment, then turned again, like an afterthought, to address Ron.

"You've dirt on your nose, did you know? Right there."

She gestured to her nose and left the compartment as swiftly as she had left.

Ron turned to Harry and Draco indignantly.

"Were neither of you going to tell me?"

The three boys dissolved into laughter, and went to pull their robes from their trunks.

______

"Trevor!"

The boy, Neville, leaped from his place in line to grab the toad that had started hopping towards professor Mcgonagall's feet, pausing only when he realized he was now in the scary Scottish witch's immediate line of sight. he straightened slowly, cradling his toad in his arms. Mcgonagall gave him a stern look, and he quickly shuffled back into the crowd of first years.

The trip across the lake had been terrifying, especially when Hagrid had casually mentioned the giant squid that inhabited it. Draco had been acting odd around the giant, turning his nose when he offered Harry a place in his boat. Harry told Ron and Draco he'd meet them at the castle, and had hopped into the rowboat. They could have fit, but Harry could feel the tears of everything hitting him all at once behind his eyes, and even having only known him two days, Hagrid seemed more like a father than Uncle Vernon ever had. When the big man had wrapped him in a hug, it had taken all of Harry's strength not to break down crying.

Now at the castle, Ron looked white as a sheet. Harry was about to nudge him and see if he was okay, when Mcgonagall opened the door to the great hall, as she had called it, and all of Harry's words fell away.

The hall was aptly named. There were four ginormous long tables covered in golden plates, goblets, and trays and trays of every food Harry could imagine. did they always eat like this!

The question flew through his mind as quickly as it arrived, because when Harry looked up...there was no roof. The sky existed in the hall, as stupid as that sounded. The candles floated, and even though he could see the walls, directly above him, Harry saw the stars.

"...An enchantment. I read it in Hogwarts, A History."

That girl from the train, Hermione, was explaining to a pair of identical twins just behind Harry, Draco and Ron. Harry managed to hear the last of her explaining, and despite her haughty tone, he couldn't help but share her excitement. If this was the dining hall, what would the rest of the school be like? 

An old man, Hagrid had called him Dumbledore, Stood on a podium at the front of the hall. He pointed a wand at his throat, and when he spoke, it was magnified, echoing through the cavernous space. He gave a speech about the school, and made a terrifying announcement about the third floor corridors causing a painful death to anyone daring to venture into them, which gave Harry pause in his decision that this school was perfect.

Mcgonagall had explained the four houses, and the attributes of each. Harry wasn't sure what he wanted, but Draco and Ron had made it very clear that they knew which houses _they_ would be sorted into. Draco had talked for ages about how slytherin was the best house, that it relied on cunning and quick thinking. Ron's face had soured at the description, but every time he had tried to interrupt, Draco had talked over him. Harry found it strange, that Draco seemed so desperate to sing slytherin's praises to Harry. 

Even stranger, Ron's description of Gryffindor had gone largely the same way. Ron spoke endlessly of its virtues, and Draco screwed his nose at every positive word. Harry didn't much care which house he was sorted into, as long as he was with one of his friends. 

Harry leaned over to whisper to Ron and see if he was okay. In hurried mumbles, Ron explained that his brother's had told him the sorting was a terrifying contest, and that last year all the first years had to wrestle a bear. With that, every butterfly Harry had coached to sleep erupted, Harry was sure there were too many for his stomach to contain. He couldn't wrestle bears! He couldn't even cook bacon right, according to the Dursleys.

All of these thoughts tumbled through his head, causing everything else to fade into a dull white noise. Dumbledore was still speaking, Mcgonagall went to stand at the front of the hall, standing beside a wooden stool with a mangy looking hat on it. 

Harry was just thinking that he couldn't handle one more surprising thing happening today, when the hat began to sing.

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

The hall erupted with applause, and Harry saw looked around to see most of the first years looking at stunned as him. Some, however, looked a if a singing hat was to be expected, and were smirking at anyone whose jaw was on the floor. Harry snapped his mouth shut.

Mcgonagall started calling names from a long parchment in her wrinkled hands, in alphabetical order.

The sortings passed by in a blur, sometimes the hat needed only seconds to shout out a house, sometimes it took a minute or two. There was an uncomfortable silence as the boy who'd lost his toad, Neville, was stuck on the stool for over 6 minutes, apparently arguing with the hat. There were a few murmurs around the hall- this didn't seem to be a common occurrence, but they were silenced by a look from Mcgonagall. Harry felt like she could scare the grim reaper away with one of her stern glances.

Eventually the hat settled on Gryffindor for Neville, and the table decorated in red and gold erupted in cheers, welcoming in their new first year. Two red headed boys, twins, Harry thought, ruffled his hair and offered them a seat next to them. Looking at the gryffindor table, Harry could see that they acted as a family. They welcomed Neville immediately, and just by seeing them interact, Harry knew that if he was sorted there, he would always be able to find love. It was definitely a strong pitch.

A few people down the list, Draco's name was called. Before strolling up to the stool, he turned and gave Harry a smile. On the train ride over, Harry had grown accustomed to Draco's smirk, with knowledge and assurance in his eyes. they held none of it now. The smile he gave Harry was nervous, and Harry hoped the one he shot back was reassuring. He'd never really had to over anyone support before, so he wasn't sure how he was doing. 

The second the hat touched Draco's head, possibly even a second before, the hat was screaming Slytherin. The slytherin table, much like Gryffindor, erupted into cheers, but theirs was different. It was as if they were claiming Draco, branding him with a mark that he was theirs now. It should have been intimidating, but the assurance each of them held, the way their smiles said _He is one of us because he deserves to be,_ filled Harry with a rush of...longing? He couldn't quite describe the feeling. It was like seeing something he hadn't known he desperately wanted until this very moment. It was like waking up.

Draco walked confidently over to the slytherin table, but when he turned to flash Harry a quick smile, it held the same vulnerability as it had before he was sorted.

It hit Harry, for the first time, that maybe just as Draco was his first friend, maybe he was also Draco's.

Suddenly Mcgonagall was calling his name, and the noise in the hall stopped. Everyone turned to stare at Harry in dead silence, obviously expecting something. Maybe they all knew which house he was supposed to be sorted into, and he didn't really have a say in it. For some reason, the idea that everyone round him already knew where he should be, even though they hadn't said as much, made his blood boil. Shouldn't he get to choose his own path?

He found himself marching up to the stool, filled with a strange new assurance. If all of these people were going to label him as the Mythical Harry Potter, then maybe he could act like him.

The hat flopped over his eyes as Mcgonagall placed it on his head, and then the same voice that had sung the song before was in his mind.

_Ah, Harry Potter. I've been waiting to sort you, it feels like yesterday I was talking to your parents._

Harry paused from what he was going to say, floored at the mention of his parents.

"You...you knew my parents?" He felt strange talking to a hat, especially knowing everyone else could see him, but he couldn't help asking.

_Oh yes. They were brave people, right until the very end, or so I've been told._

Harry felt like he shouldn't ask, maybe he didn't need to know. It probably didn't matter. But how could he not ask, with the hat right here?

"What houses were they in?"

There was a pause, as the sorting hat seemed to consider not answering.

_Your parents were as gryffindor as they come. Never met anyone so brave, and willing to charge into battle headfirst, no matter the cost. No doubt everyone expects you to follow suit. You'd make a great gryffindor, boy. plenty of courage in that heart of yours, and foolishness in your head. But is it what you want?_

Despite his determination to choose his own path, Harry was surprised by the hat actually asking for his input. He tried to untangle the Hat's words, realizing that was why everyone stared at him as if his path was written in stone. They were all expecting him to mirror his parents, and be in the house of red and gold.

Part of him desperately wanted to do so, to be like his parents and live life as they must've years ago. But another part, a more stubborn part, whispered that he needn't follow that path because it was expected, or easy. His future was his alone.

The hat chuckled.

_Oh, there's some indecision in you, boy. You'd be a brave gryffindor, it's true. But slytherin would suit you nicely too. You could be great you know, many powerful wizards in slytherin. Cunning and skill make for powerful people._

Harry felt as if the words should have turned him off. Cunning was so often used as a bad word, and he'd never wanted to be powerful...except for every time uncle Vernon had turned the lock on his cupboard under the stairs. Except for every time he was yelled at for being early, for being late, for his hair growing too long and him being too weird. In those moments, he wanted to be powerful enough to shout back, to be _heard._ And even if this wasn't one of those moments, Harry knew that there would be another. And when they came, he wanted to be powerful enough to say no.

The hat didn't seem to need to hear his decision, He could see it in Harry's head.

"SLYTHERIN!"


	2. Shock

The silence was deafening.

Harry wasn't sure what he had expected, but complete and total silence wasn't it.

Every other sorting had been followed with thunderous applause, and the absence of that hit Harry like a punch to the gut. 

Mutely, Professor Mcgonagall lifted the sorting hat from off his shaggy hair. He had seen her murmur a congratulations to all the other first years, but she simply stared down at Harry, looking as if she had witnessed a tragedy. She looked at Harry like she knew him very well, and she had just delivered him to the doors of death.

Why didn't he always have to different? Maybe if he had just followed the path set for him, and chosen gryffindor, this moment would be filled with happiness and acceptance. He was tempted to snatch the hat back and tell it to put him in gryffindor instead. The hundreds of eyes upon him halted him from it.

He looked to his new house, and found a house of stony faces staring back at him. They had cheered for Draco, and the other first year's sorted there. This was just another case of him not fitting in. Perfect.

Just as he focused on unfreezing his muscles, and standing to walk to the slytherin table with his head as high as he could manage, he heard a sound, sharp in the desolate silence.

Clapping.

His eyes shot around the room, and found Draco's, grey eyes bright with pride as he applauded.

Slowly, the people sitting around him started to join. Some seemed reluctant, some stunned, and he wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but Harry thought there were a few that looked, possibly, hopeful?

He didn't think his eyes could possibly express the gratitude he felt to Draco in that moment, but he did his best. The boys shared a smile that made the issues of the world fade away, if only for a moment.

Sitting around Draco were the other first years that had been sorted into slytherin before Harry.

There was a lithe girl with Dark auburn hair, two large boys that looked as if the time spent apart during the sorting was the longest they'd ever spent apart, a short, stunning girl with gold hair that tumbled down her shoulders, and another taller, stringy looking boy, who seemed to be sitting as far from everyone around him as possible. Aside from the stringy boy, they all looked at Harry in disdain, and grimaced at Draco clapping. the stringy boy was the first to join, clapping without looking up from the table. The blonde girl was the only other of the group to follow suit.

As he made his way towards the spot Draco had cleared beside him on the bench, Harry found Ron's eyes in the crowd of unsorted first year's. He immediately wished he hadn't.

He thought he could have handled Ron seeming angry, or disappointed, given how much he seemed to dislike slytherin. But nothing could have prepared Harry for the look of fear in Ron's eyes. Ron dropped Harry's eyes after barely a second, but the expression was branded into Harry's mind. This kind boy with whom he had shared sweets with on the train, was _terrified_ of Harry, because he now belonged to the house of snakes.

Suddenly he didn't feel welcome at Hogwarts anymore.

The slytherins moved to let him get to Draco, and the group of first years parted as if he had the plague to let him sit with Draco. This left him between Draco and the stringy, tall boy. 

Not a bad spot, Harry thought.

He was ready for the attention to move off of him. Surely the next sorting was interesting enough to get the burn of everyone's stares off of him. 

Mcgonagall called the next name, and it felt like the tension snapped as everyone turned their attention back to the front of the hall. 

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It felt nice to only have a few curious slytherins glancing at him from the corner of their eyes, than the entire great hall.

He leaned over to whisper to Draco.

"Thanks, for that,"

Draco gave him that crooked smile.

"Well, you deserved a proper welcome to the greatest Hogwarts house."

Harry was absolutely certain that Draco truly believed slytherin to be the best Hogwarts house. But he was also absolutely certain that Draco described it with bitterness, like it wasn't entirely believable. Harry thought there must be more to the inter-house relations that meet the eye.

Ron's name was called to be sorted, and as he sat, his eyes met Harry's for another brief second. And there it was again, that fear. It was mixed with something else Harry couldn't identity. But he didn't care, the fear was too prominent.

Harry stared at the table, focusing on a grain in the wood of the table, and didn't look up when the hat called out Gryffindor.

He didn't look up when the hat sorted the next ten first years. He heard one student get sorted into slytherin, and raised his eye-line for a moment to see a dark skinned boy with high cheekbones and a mischievous smile walk over and sit on the other side of the stringy boy, giving Draco a nod of acknowledgement, with Draco returned. Harry was not given the same courtesy. He went back to staring at the table.

He didn't look up when there was a 30 second pause as the hat deliberated. he didn't even look up when Mcgonagall announced the end of the sorting, and Dumbledore announced the beginning of the feast. 

Draco had to shake his arm to show him what had just happened.

The golden plated, trays, and goblets that had been empty not a second ago, were now filled to the brim. So much food, more food than he thought double the amount of people in the hall could eat. Harry's full stomach from the food on the train was forgotten as the took in everything around him.

Draco laughed at his stunned expression.

"It's the house elf's. They make all the food and use magic to get it to appear on Dumbledore's command. It's actually quite clever."

Draco talked about the elf's like Harry thought he would a particularly unique dog, but Harry thought they must be smarter than that, to have made all of this.

His hands were reaching for the plate of roast before he even thought about what he wanted. Back home, the Dursley's loved roast. Harry would sit over the oven all day, perfectly cooking the beef and vegetables until they were golden and crispy. And then the Dursley's would eat it, while he ate the noodles from the back of the cupboard. They said he needed to save them the money, what with the inconvenience that was Harry. He wondered who would cook their roasts for them now that he was gone.

With every bite of the golden potatoes and perfectly braised beef, Harry imagined the Dursley's eating the noodles with the meager flavour packet, and despite himself, he smiled.

"They hate us, you know."

It was a brief smile.

Harry looked at the tall girl sitting across from him, giving him a bitter smile as she scooped lasagna onto her plate with an ornate gold spatula. She looked years older than Harry, and while her words and her tone were bitter, there was a glint in her eyes.

"Slytherins. They all hate the lot of us."

She gestured to the other three houses behind them, who all seemed to be having a marvelous time. They looked like three ginormous families. 

Harry had that feeling, again, that he'd made the wrong choice, but some small part of him, a voice of assurance that had been silenced for a long time, told him this was where he needed to be.

"Why?"

Harry knew there were better questions he could have asked. He could have introduced himself or asked her name, or anything polite, but the girl seemed so forthcoming.

It was the stringy boy that jumped in this time.

"They think we're evil. The Dark Lord was in slytherin, and they think because we're cunning, we can't be good. They think it's black and white, and they like to keep us in the dark."

Harry, Draco, and the tall girl all stared at the boy.

"My friends got their letters last year, they both got Ravenclaw. They wrote me all about it. They told me how slytherin is evil and all the things they've heard. When i told them my family expected me to be sorted here, they stopped writing."

He ended the sentence with an air of finality, telling them that his moment of sharing was over. Harry tried to break the silence, desperate for these people to accept him, as they clearly had even the slightly odd boy on his left.

"I'm Harry."

Before he could reach to shake the boy and the girl's hands, he was startled as they both started to laugh.

Draco nudged him in the arm as he raised his spoonful of soup to his mouth (out of all this food, Harry had no idea why he would choose _soup_ ), and grinned.

"They know who you are, Harry. Everyone does."

The girl gave him another smile, not exactly warm, but not threatening either.

"I'm Sarah. Wolfe, not that that'll mean much to a muggle-born raised wizard like you." She said it in a haughty voice, with an air of pride to her words.

Harry almost went to laugh at how similar she and Draco sounded introducing themselves, but found himself censoring the thought. Names were clearly important to these people. They came from good families, which seemed to earn them respect, but in slytherin alone.

Harry's name got recognition, but respect from slytherins didn't seem like a given for him.

Harry reached to shake Sarah's hand.

"It's nice to meet you, what year are you in?"

"Fourth year." She said in a monotone, almost pained voice.

"Is it as much fun as it sounds?"

She gave a startled look, and appraised Harry, taking in the sarcasm in his voice.

"Maybe you won't be so bad here, Golden Boy"

Harry raised an eyebrow at the nickname, but decided not to comment. It felt like the right move not to cross this girl. She was smiling, but he had a feeling she'd be a powerful enemy.

"And I'm Theodore Nott, if anyone was wondering."

The boy didn't look up from his plate, and Harry chuckled.

"Pleased to meet you. Truly."

Harry could still feel the stares of the rest of the house on him, but meeting Sarah and Theodore made him feel a little more confident. Maybe respect just had to be earned in slytherin, and if his name didn't award it to him, his actions would have to.

Harry let his gaze drift around the hall as he ate, and saw a black haired, sallow looking professor at the front of the hall staring at him with an inscrutable expression. Harry couldn't look away from him fast enough, even from far away, his eyes looked black. The man sitting next to him seemed much more timid. He wore a turban, and looked as if he was perpetually laughing with nervous energy. He glanced at Harry for a moment, and a shooting pain split Harry's forehead in two. He reached up to grab him head, and the feeling passed as he cradled his scar. This took place over the course of two seconds, as Harry realized he didn't want to seem even more strange, and hastened as quickly as he could to look anywhere else and shovel roast potatoes into his mouth. 

_______

The feast was over in a flash of delicious food and Harry was heading with his house to their rooms. Draco explained (in a more haughty tone than the prefect leading the slytherin first years had) that their common room and dormitories were in the dungeons. 

After so many years trapped in that tiny cupboard under the stairs, the last place Harry wanted to live was a dark, underground place, but Draco's eyes held a glint of mischief that Harry interpreted to mean that the dungeons were cooler than one would assume. 

Draco was right.

The entrance was hidden behind a bare patch of wall, and the password, riddle, was shared with the first years upon entrance. The other first years snickered as if the word meant something to them but, try as he might, Harry could not think of a double meaning to the word.

His thoughts on the subject ceased completely as they entered the common room.

Mostly, it was what Harry had expected. Dark stone walls, candles and torches, ornate, uncomfortable looking couches and bookshelf's, and a roaring fireplace. But all of that seemed like white noise.

Because through the walls...Harry could see the lake.

The walls, aside from the one housing the fireplace, were transparent. Some kind of light, a charm, Harry thought it must be, allowed a gentle aqua light to emanate enough to see the water. Harry thought seeing how far underground they were should have been scary, but then a mermaid swam past, giggling as she waved to the first years, and Harry found himself in love with the slytherin common room.

"My parents said it was beautiful, but I didn't think..."

Draco didn't seem to notice he'd spoken aloud as he looked out into the water.

The view of the lake was ethereal. Harry thought he could watch the gentle stream of fish and the ripples of water forever, and he probably would. It made the room seem bigger, less alarming. Yes they were underground, but they were definitely not alone.

A drawling voice pulled Harry from gazing around the room.

"Well, well, seems as if Slytherin has its own...celebrity."

The crowd around him parted as if he had the plague, and Harry looked up to find the sallow man with the greasy hair from the banquet glaring directly down at him. His eyes looked even more black up close, and Harry fought the urge to look away. This was yet another test, looking away would make him seem weak.

"Mr Potter...you may be the golden boy in the wizarding world, however, in this house, don't expect any preferential treatment. You are not special here."

The man spoke in a monotone voice, superior and cruel. Harry wanted to cry. He'd finally left home, and here he was in the care of another Vernon Dursley.

He stayed silent, his instincts kicking in. He stared up at the man until he looked away.

"Welcome to slytherin. I am Professor Snape, and I am your head of house. I expect you to maintain the honour of our house, and not to lose us any points."

Harry made a mental note to ask Draco about the point system. 

"I expect to only be bothered when necessary. Listen to your prefects, they are in charge of you new blood. Don't disappoint me."

And with that motivational speech, he was gone. He turned in a flourish of his black robes and left through a dark wooden door left of the fireplace. 

Harry turned to Draco.

"What a charmer."

Draco gave a surprised chuckle.

"Yes, well, Severus has always had a cold facade."

Harry started at Draco's use of the professors first name. He must have known him outside of school, and quite well, given the familiarity with which he spoke about him. Harry decided not to badmouth Snape to Draco again until he knew Draco's thoughts on the man.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad! There would likely be challenges sure, and he was clearly going to have to prove himself before people would accept him, but that made sense. He was up for the challenge.

**Author's Note:**

> (Some quotes are from the movies and books, sorting hat's song is from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone) :)


End file.
